When I think of a place that brings several sensory details to memory, I drift back to my favorite campsite. All throughout high school, my best friends and I would sneak off every chance we could get to run down behind the school’s cross country track. We originally fell in love with the lush creek valley because of its deep, crystal clear water and its great fishing. Eventually, it became our regular spot for camping and any other activity we possibly create to steal a moment at our sacred spot. We cutout part of the hill side, covered with beautiful wild flowers, ferns, and colossal trees scattered about. We put huge stone steps, covered in thick damp moss, (massive creek rocks we retrieved no less than ten feet away) in for a homier touch. We also created a large circular fire pit, made of smaller round stones found in the creek. I have never slept better ANYWHERE than that clearing by the creek. Perhaps, it was because of the cool water running peacefully over the rocks, giving off that relaxing, trickling sound. Or possibly, it was from the warm fire crackling, providing the comforting aroma of smoking hickory trees.
Possibly my favorite memories (although I have hundreds), was when one of my best Devon Hottel would break out his guitar and play for us. Whenever we could conjure him into doing it for us, we would celebrate by breaking into cheap cigars and smuggled beer we managed to get a hold of somehow. Some times Devon sang solo (he had an amazing voice), but more often than not we would break out together, belting out our favorite Tom Petty and Red Hot Chili Peppers songs. The cool night air was filled with our happy melody smoke, and the occasional crack of cans. Every time I think back on those fond memories, it seems like the forest is alive and happy to have us. An aura of euphoria surrounded us. We just loved to be in each others company.
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